trow, with love offended most, That e’er was any living creature: For she, that doth me all this woe endure, Ne recketh ne’er whether I sink or fleet. And well I wot, ere she me mercy hete, I must with strengthë win her in the place: And well I wot, withoutë help or grace Of thee, ne may my strengthë not avail: Then help me, lord, to-morr’w in my bataille, For thilkë fire that whilom burned thee, As well as this fire that now burneth me; And do that I to-morr’w may have victóry. Mine be the travail, all thine be the glory. Thy sovereign temple will I most honoúr Of any place, and alway most laboúr In thy pleasance and in thy craftës strong. And in thy temple I will my banner hong, And all the armës of my company, And evermore, until that day I die, Eternal fire I will before thee find. And eke to this my vow I will me bind: My beard, my hair that hangeth long adown, That never yet hath felt offensión Of razor nor of shears, I will thee give, And be thy truë servant while I live. Now, lord, have ruth upon my sorrows sore, Give me the victory, I ask no more.”
The prayer stint of Arcita the strong, The ringës on the temple door that hong, And